Fragile, like so many beautiful things
by Rargamonster
Summary: Vash would never admit to loving Roderich, and perhaps that was what caused it all to fall apart. SwissAus with a side of PruAus, modern human AU, angst, smut, oneshot.


A/N: Warnings: Angst, smut, angst, violence, angst. And language, I suppose.

**Fragile, like so many beautiful things**

Several realizations and emotions hit Vash in quick succession.

The first was that he was absolutely fucking pissed off. Who the hell was this "G" person? And why the hell was he texting Roderich and calling him "babe"? The fuck was going on? He paged through the phone to look at the message history – nothing. It was probably a wrong number, he tried to tell himself.

But the number was saved in Roderich's contact list.

That was unsettling – he didn't want to call the seed of feeling that had planted itself in his chest _fear_ – but he was probably being paranoid. He would just need to get over it.

Because the final realization that had spiked through his heart in that moment was that somehow, over the years of bickering and running away and coming back again and now fucking each other on occasional evenings, Vash had fallen in love with the uptight musician without even noticing. Now that he knew – though he swore he'd never say it aloud; he did still have some shred of pride to cling to, and he wasn't going to admit to loving that bastard – he couldn't stand the idea of this… of whatever it was they had falling apart.

So, denial it was then.

A swipe of his finger deleted the text, and he placed the phone back on the bedside table just as Roderich exited the bathroom, toweling off his hair.

"I should probably be going," Vash got out of bed and started re-dressing himself. He didn't want to be anywhere near Roderich right now, didn't want to see his too-pretty face or hear his prissy voice or watch him move around the house with his customary grace. And he certainly didn't want to think of him being with this "G" character.

Roderich's eyebrows knotted slightly at Vash's words, his face not quite frowning, but not void of emotion either. As Vash crossed the room to leave, Roderich caught his arm, stopping him. It was unexpected; the only time they touched each other outside of bed was when they were only moments away from getting into it, but never after.

"Won't you stay the night?" Roderich asked, speaking quickly, studying a nondescript spot on the wall beyond, rather than meeting his eyes.

Vash frowned, "Can't."

The brunet's head tilted back, his dark blue eyes flicking up to the ceiling, filled with a sardonic kind of mirth. A single puff of what might have been laughter left his lips, which parted into a bitter smile, "You never stay the night," he said, shaking his head almost flippantly, but there was a solemn sadness reflected in his movements that both men ignored.

"I can't leave Lilli all by herself," Vash said, tugging his arm out of Roderich's grip and starting for the door again.

"She's seventeen, Vash, she doesn't need you to be home every single night," Roderich called after him as he slammed the front door.

Vash turned the radio on and the volume up on his drive home, wanting some noise to fill his head so he wouldn't be left alone in silence with his thoughts. He was only marginally successful; he ended up gritting his teeth trying to avoid dwelling on Roderich the entire way home, his grip on the steering wheel growing so tight that his knuckles turned white, his turns jerky and sharp, his accelerations fast and hard.

Luckily, he made it home in one piece.

He was distant and distracted throughout dinner with Lilli, unable to carry on a coherent conversation over the meal. She didn't seem to mind though; she had always had a sweet and patient soul, and it only helped that she had her own distractions - in the past months, she seemed to have discovered boys and had started texting like a fiend.

Vash knew he'd have to sit down and have a talk with her about that one of these days (he had already planned out which of his guns he would leave out conspicuously to greet any potential suitors) but he didn't know if he could do it. What did he know about love, after all? What kind of brotherly wisdom could he possibly pass on to Lilli, when he didn't even know what the hell he was doing himself?

She would probably be better off without his meddling words, his useless, confused and convoluted words.

He ended up climbing into his bed much earlier than he normally did, but he did not fall asleep for a long while.

After he had lain wrapped up in his blankets for hours, when his clock read an ungodly hour in the morning, he found himself thinking of Roderich. He loved the curl of hair at his forehead that was forever unruly; he loved the little mole by the corner of his mouth that could reduce the man to a needy, moaning mess with the slightest touch; he loved his creamy pale skin and his expressive dark eyes. He loved Roderich's slender, graceful musician's fingers; loved hearing those fingers dance across the keys of the piano Roderich kept in his cramped living room; loved feeling those fingers stroking his bare skin in that way that made him shiver with pleasure. He loved the way Roderich's beautiful face would twist into an adorable little pouting frown when he was upset (or pretending to be upset) and he loved wiping those frowns off his face with carefully timed caresses and kisses and then shoving him into bed so that his face would be overcome with expressions of a different kind.

But he hated the intimacy, hated the vulnerability, hated exposing his heart to a man who could so easily crush it in those beautiful, delicate fingers of his.

Vash eventually slept, uneasily.

Roderich called him the next night – he didn't pick up his phone.

* * *

Pressed roughly against the bedsheets, Roderich squirmed and moaned under the weight of Vash's body. A subtle smirk crossed over the blond's face as he slowed his thrusts, watching his lover strain to meet his body, a low, displeased whine leaving Roderich's throat as he struggled to free his wrists from where Vash had them pinned down on either side of his head.

Vash pressed a bruising kiss to his mouth, biting at his lips just to hear the sharp whimpers of mixed pleasure and pain as the last of Roderich's composure left him; he held a perverse sort of fascination for watching the usually refined and uptight man come undone like this, turning into a mess of moans and whimpers and trembling limbs, seeking only pleasure, sensation, release.

He loved having this sort of control over the other man.

Though he himself was temptingly close to completion – a few quick thrusts into Roderich's hot, tight ass and he would be gone - he kept himself at the agonizingly slow pace, half-opened eyes watching the emotions flutter across the brunet's expressive face. Dazed, breathless pleasure, but also an agitated frustration. Vash was not at all surprised when Roderich bucked his hips up, trying to urge him on faster; he knew the other man was close, too.

But that didn't mean that Vash was willing to relinquish any piece of his control over the situation.

"No," he chastised, sliding his hands down to the musician's hips, pressing him down into the bed and holding him firmly in place so that _he_ could dictate their pace. He slowed to a stop, pulling his achingly hard arousal almost all the way out of Roderich, teasing his entrance with the tip. Roderich's newly freed hands immediately began to scrabble over Vash's arms and shoulders with an unrefined urgency so uncharacteristic of the man, trying to pull him closer, trying to force him to _move_.

"Fuck- Vash-" he hissed, unsuccessful and impatient.

"What," the shorter man prompted, frowning to push back the needy moan that was threatening to spill forth from his lips.

"Fuck me," Roderich begged, arching his back in a futile attempt to push himself closer, to fill himself up again with his lover's hardness.

Vash complied, his own patience wearing thin, his body aching for release. With a few hard thrusts, Roderich was crying out, arms clutching tightly at Vash's strong shoulders, all of his limbs twitching and shuddering in ecstasy – enough to push Vash over the edge moments later. He came harder than he ever had before, feeling the blissful sensation jolting through every nerve in his body, his head filling with a numbingly hazy euphoria. Sudden realization of his exhaustion followed seconds behind, and he collapsed next to Roderich on the bed, rubbing at his face tiredly.

An arm snaked around his waist, and Vash found himself being pulled up against Roderich's side.

"Won't you stay tonight?" he asked, quietly, hesitantly.

Vash nodded sleepily, clinging to the source of heat and comfort in the bed next to him, drifting off into peaceful unconsciousness as Roderich gently stroked his hair.

* * *

Mumbling to himself, Vash stirred in bed, keeping his eyes closed against the bright moonlight. He was exhausted, he was comfortable, he was hoping he would drift easily back into sleep… He was lying next to something warm that should not be in his bed.

Flinching away from whatever it was, he jolted awake, looked around the room… Fuck, this wasn't his bedroom at home. _Fuck_, he was still lying next to Roderich. He shouldn't be here.

Vash dropped his face into his hands, massaging at his temples. Maybe he could just stay? He was tired, and a slight soreness had settled into his muscles, and it was probably almost morning anyway, and it wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Roderich still slept on, his pretty face peaceful, bathed in the light of the full moon. That unruly lock of hair had fallen across his face, fluttering with each soft breath he took; Vash half reached out to brush it away, but hesitated. The moment was beautiful – Roderich naked and wrapped messily in the bedsheets, his smooth, pale skin practically glowing in the moonlight, a perfect contrast to his dark hair, mussed from sex and sleep – and yet, like so many beautiful things, it seemed so fragile that it might break from the slightest touch.

He dressed himself swiftly and silently, and had slipped through the front door within minutes, leaving Roderich to his dreams of tranquil togetherness.

* * *

Roderich never brought up the late-night disappearance, but over the next weeks, he grew more distant, his smiles becoming rare and forced. He didn't contact Vash outside of their usual Tuesday and Thursday nights – no more lists of the things that irked him throughout the day or invitations to come over for "cake" or even the random little small-talk conversation starters that he would occasionally text. Vash had rarely responded to any of them, so he really shouldn't be missing it. It was a goddamn blessing that his phone wasn't buzzing when he was in the middle of something at work, he tried to tell himself, but still… It didn't feel right, now that it was gone.

He'd also stopped asking Vash to stay the night - a relief, because it wasn't like he wanted to spend more time with that priss anyway – but Vash couldn't help remembering that underneath the shock and the panic of realizing that he'd slept cuddled up to the man like some sort of tender-hearted moron, it had actually been quite nice. Roderich was warm, his skin was soft, his hands were gentle, and they'd known each other for so long that his presence brought the comfort of familiarity… But was it more?

Part of him knew it was, but the rest of him refused to admit it.

But while he was refusing to admit it, Roderich was slipping away. Everything was changing – Roderich didn't meet him at the door as promptly as he used to, didn't react the same way to his touch, didn't exude the same desperation and passion between the bedsheets, didn't speak to him… It wasn't like they'd ever really spoken about anything beyond the superficial, but even those strange, tense conversations were better than the absolute lack of communication that reigned now.

And those damned texts from "G" had started up again.

Roderich probably thought that he hadn't noticed. Well, Roderich wasn't the most observant individual sometimes, Vash's interest had been piqued, and this "G" guy seemed like he might be the only one who had any sort of inkling of what the hell was going on in Roderich's mind (since Roderich himself wasn't talking, and Vash wasn't about to break down and ask him what was wrong – one, that might actually make it look like he cared, and two, he was pretty sure he already knew what he had done wrong).

Reading the texts didn't help. In fact, they made things worse, as they mostly consisted of exchanges like "I wanna fucking rail you right now, is the bf around?" "He's not my boyfriend, and no, he's not here" and Vash didn't know what the worst part about it was. That Roderich was pretty much confirmed to be fucking other guys (which he couldn't exactly fault him for, considering that they were never explicitly exclusive), that G _knew _about him (and that they were probably having a laugh about it all behind his back), or that Roderich wasn't even bothering to hide it anymore.

And Vash couldn't even confront Roderich about it either, because that would make him look jealous and possessive and controlling (and those were three things that Vash most certainly was _not_), and it wasn't like they were actually in a relationship or anything. It wasn't even like they were actually even _friends_. They had hated each other. Or at least Vash though they did.

It was strange, how Roderich's face could be so expressive, flitting easily from one emotion to the next, and yet Vash still had no idea what was going on in the other man's head. Or maybe he had an idea, but didn't want to acknowledge it.

Or maybe he just needed proof.

Pulling on his coat, he made to leave the house, tapping at Lilli's door along the way. She was sprawled on her bed in front of an open textbook and tapping away at her phone.

"I'm going out. Don't know when I'll be back. Stay home, and don't have anyone over. Call me if you need anything," he said, and she nodded, turning back to her phone.

Vash wasn't too worried; Lilli was a good kid. At worst, she might stay up late watching a movie or talking to her friends. He turned to leave, but hesitated at the door.

"Lilli?" he started.

"Yes, brother?" she asked, shifting around to prop herself up in a more comfortable position.

"Be careful," he nodded at the phone.

"Careful?" she asked, confused.

"With the boys. Don't- Don't go for an idiot or anything, okay? Pick someone you can talk to. Someone who won't be afraid tell you how he feels about you." _Someone who won't hurt you._

"Oh," she smiled up at him sweetly, "I am careful, don't worry."

"I'd better get to meet this guy. I'm looking forward to scaring the bejeezus out of him."

She giggled, "I know. You will," and Vash found himself smiling, too.

After a moment, though, he forced himself to sober his expression, "He's good to you?"

Lilli nodded brightly.

"And you're happy?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good. That's all that really matters." Vash turned to leave again.

"Big brother?" Lilli spoke up suddenly as he was closing the door behind him, and he paused to hear what she had to say. "Are you okay? Is everything alright?"

"I don't know, Lilli. I guess I'll find out."

* * *

Vash parked his car across the street from Roderich's house, killed the engine, and sat there, hands wrapped around a can of some energy drink that tasted like overly sweetened crap. There was a car he didn't recognize parked in Roderich's driveway, and the lights upstairs were on.

If he looked closely, he could see the silhouettes of two people moving around in Roderich's bedroom.

He looked away, staring at the flickering streetlights, the rain that had started to fall on his windshield, anything but Roderich's bedroom window.

By the time he'd finally worn down his self-control enough to look again, the lights had been turned out.

* * *

The sun rose, and the morning light twinkled through last night's raindrops that still clung to cars, windows, individual blades of grass in each perfectly manicured lawn in this fucking neighborhood that Vash never wanted to come back to again.

He hadn't slept. He'd sipped on the energy drink to keep himself awake and watched Roderich's front door so that he would see G when he left. It was a masochistic kind of curiosity that Vash couldn't shake – he had to see this. He had to know.

When the door finally opened, Vash sat and studied the man who stepped out and strode up to the unknown car. Somehow he wasn't surprised – the _other man_ was tall, much taller than Vash was, and though there were a couple things similar in their features, something strangely familiar in the man's nose and the shaping of his mouth, he was something completely different. Sharper, handsomer. Even the way he moved was compelling, charismatic, and it made Vash sick to watch.

He got out of the car.

"Hey!" he yelled across the street, stomping over, tired and jittery from the lack of sleep and the abundance of caffeine that was hopping through his veins. "Are you G?"

The other man looked at him as if he might be an escaped mental patient or something, "Yeah?"

"Fucking _asshole_," Vash growled, jabbing his fist at the bastard's face. It connected, sharp pain blossoming through his knuckles, and Vash felt a smug satisfaction at knowing that he wasn't the only one feeling _that_ particular pain.

"The fuck?" G stumbled back, one hand pressed to his cheek, but an instant later he was lunging at Vash.

It occurred to Vash that he hadn't exactly thought the whole situation through. Sure, he was quick on his feet (being short did come with some advantages) but the other man was taller, probably stronger, and had a longer reach. He dodged or blocked the first few wild swings, but he couldn't keep that up forever –

A fist slammed into the side of his face, and Vash saw stars –

"Stop it!" Roderich was rushing out of the house now, and both men looked up and backed away from the other.

He looked between the two, biting his lip, conflicted, and Vash stared blankly back, not really interested in anything Roderich might have to say anymore.

"Gil… You should go. Just go," said Roderich in a small voice, and the silver-haired man complied, getting into his car and driving off, tires screeching on the pavement.

Neither Vash nor Roderich spoke for a long stretch.

"So now you know," Roderich said bitterly, slumping up against the side of the house. His eyes were empty, and he had forced a sad little smile onto his pretty face.

Vash said nothing.

"I didn't- I never intended to hurt you," he whispered, barely audible.

"Don't worry then. You didn't," Vash looked away, his arms crossed, "You never meant anything to me, anyway."

* * *

When Lilli got home from school, she said nothing about the spectacular dark purple bruise that had blossomed over the side of Vash's face. She made no comments, asked no questions, simply retrieved him a fresh ice pack and sat next to him on the couch to study.

Neither of them spoke until Vash picked himself up to go to bed early.

"Brother? You'll find it, someday. Someone who's good to you."

He forced himself to nod sharply, and left the room.

* * *

Sleep did not come easily. Vash laid in his bed, tossing and turning among the blankets for hours, trying to find a way to lie that would get rid of the ache in his heart, but no matter what he did, it would not go away.

The hours went by, and he found himself thinking of Roderich. He hated the curl of hair at his forehead that was forever unruly; he hated that stupid mole by the corner of his mouth. He hated his creamy pale skin and the dark eyes that simultaneously expressed everything and nothing. He hated Roderich's slender, graceful musician's fingers; hated that he would never again hear those fingers dance across the keys of a piano; hated thinking about those fingers stroking another man's bare skin, making that _other_ man tremble with pleasure. He hated remembering the way that Roderich's beautiful face would twist into one of his frowns when he was upset, and he hated knowing that someone else would be there now to wipe those frowns away and to take him to bed afterward –

But, most of all, Vash hated that he had become a man who could not expose his heart to another for fear of it being crushed, and yet, for all of his coldness, he was still left vulnerable.

He was fragile, and there was nothing beautiful about it.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading! I do hope you've enjoyed, this one is my first published smutty piece~

As an update on my chaptered stories – the next chapter of FC is finished and currently being edited, and should be up by the end of the week; the next chapter of Fame is about halfway written. (…I just realized that all of my Hetalia fics start with the letter 'F.' As amusing as it is, this trend will not be continuing xD)

As always, I am incredibly grateful for any reviews/favorites/whatever that are sent my way!


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